


A Bit of a Mess

by WriteDreamLie



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bloody Kisses, But still screw that place, First Kiss, Fluff, Good things happen at the pier for once, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 04:22:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14097120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteDreamLie/pseuds/WriteDreamLie
Summary: The scene at the pier, but better.Combination of "someone should write this" posts on Tumblr, including a bloody kiss and comfort cuddles for our ailing Ed.





	A Bit of a Mess

_Two of them, both have guns, both rather large, I wonder if they can swim…?_

Calm though he was on the outside, Edward Nygma was not one to give up on his own life so easily. He hadn’t had much of a choice in getting here—they’d stuck him in a rather awkward position in the car, away from any semblance of a useable tool—but out in the open, he had more options.

Right?

“Hey, I’ve got a riddle for ya. What’s got a bullet in its head and sinks to the bottom of the river?”

_She couldn’t even send someone clever to kill me, that bitch…_

“You!” laughed the goon, delighted by his joke.

“The real torture,” said Ed, pausing to clear some of the blood from his teeth, “is that those idiotic words will be the last I ever hear.”

_If I could just get a good swing in while they’re distracted, get one of their guns. Could I do it before the other takes a shot at me? Possible. Not probable. Downright unlikely given my current state, in fact._

He was in a bad way. The adrenaline that had kept him going this long was wearing off, and he was beginning to feel the seeping pain settle into his jaw. His arms felt stiff from being tied so long and he was… tired. Exhausted. Ready to sleep.

_I’m going to die here on this stupid fucking pier._

“Just do it!” he screamed at Sofia’s goons, both of whom were still laughing. At least in death, he wouldn’t have to hear that grating sound anymore.

Two shots rang out in quick succession, and Ed was more startled by the bodies falling on either side of him than the idea of bullets finally flying in his direction. He jumped to his feet, grabbing one of the dead men’s guns and pointing it at the shooter who’d just barely saved his life.

“Oswald?” He took a few small, cautious steps backwards, away from the gun still pointed at his chest. “How…? Did you already kill Sofia?”

Oswald stopped a few feet away and finally let his hand fall to his side. “No,” he said, clearly frustrated by the answer. “She left the mansion to pursue Jim Gordon.”

 _Of course she did,_ thought Ed. _One-track mind, that one. But then…_

“Why didn’t you just stay at the home?” Ed asked, confused. “Wait till she came there and killed her?” _It’s what I would’ve done. She left before the ice broke, she’d have never suspected, and Oswald knows that house far better than she does, he could’ve surprised her fairly easily—_

“Then I wouldn’t have been here on time.”

Ed’s train of thought screeched to a halt. All logical answers abandoned him. All the plotting and scheming Oswald had done over the past several days, from his breakout to the rescue of young Martin, all of it had been for the sake of taking down Sofia. Ed hadn’t even considered the idea that Oswald would come for him instead.

“You… gave up your revenge for me?”

Oswald looked away, as if he wanted to choose his next words carefully. He took a few shuffling steps forward, looking more and more tired with every second.

“Trust is so very hard to find in Gotham,” he said finally. “But I trust you, Ed.”

He met Ed’s eyes as he spoke, and Ed was startled by the sincerity he saw there. This wasn’t a joke, a ruse, another con before firing the final shot.

And Ed was doubly surprised to find that he believed every word.

As if he felt the need to illustrate the point further, Oswald shoved his gun into a coat pocket and looked back up at Ed expectantly. After another moment’s hesitation, Ed put his gun away too.

Oswald smiled wearily, not like a villain who was plotting his next move, but like a man who has had a long day and wants nothing more than to go back to bed. In that moment the small gesture of peace was about the most beautiful thing Edward had ever seen.

He reached forward unconsciously and rested a hand on either side of Oswald’s face. Oswald, to his credit, didn’t flinch away, though his hands did come to rest on Edward’s wrists.

 _That’s fair,_ Ed thought, marveling at the touch. A few days ago, they’d been in the exact same position in Arkham. Then, Edward had been more than ready to kill the man in front of him. Now, he was equally sure he’d do anything to keep that same man from coming to any harm ever again.

“Ed…?” The smile faltered just a bit.

Edward leaned forward and pressed his lips to Oswald’s, softly at first, then more insistently as he relished the feeling. Oswald returned the gesture, all the while running his thumbs softly across Edward’s knuckles.

Ed moved to deepen the kiss and Oswald’s hands immediately flew to his shoulders.

“Ed, wait,” he said, pulling away with a grimace.

 _Oh no._ “Oswald, I’m sorry, I don’t know what—”

“No, stop, it’s fine. It’s _more_ than fine, actually, but um…” He paused, making a quick motion in front of Ed’s face. “You’re a bit of a mess right now.”

“Oh.” Ed smiled, the ache in his jaw returning to the forefront of his attention. He laughed despite it, and moved to brush a bit of blood from Oswald’s lips.

Oswald laughed too, much to Ed’s relief.

“Come on,” said Oswald, taking Ed’s hands in his own. “Let’s get you home.”

“Home?”

Oswald sighed, pulling Edward back towards the car. “Yes. I’d rather like to scrub the smell of Sofia Falcone out of my house as soon as possible. And you look like you’re about to collapse right here and now.”

Edward realized just how true that statement must’ve been as he took his first steps away from the pier. His legs were unstable, and he wanted more than anything to stop moving for a while. He collapsed into the car, resting his head back on the headrest, eyes closed firmly.

“Oswald,” he said as the other man climbed into the driver’s seat, “as much as I’d love to return to the mansion with you, I think we should go back to my place in the Narrows. I have some medications there that I think I would be rather helpful in my current condition.”

“Of course, Ed. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you, Oswald.”

\-----

They were silent the rest of the drive. It was an admittedly long one, as Oswald had to contend with both the blockades caused by Sofia’s men on the road and his own difficulty driving.

He would’ve thought Ed was asleep the whole time had he not been so restless. Every few seconds he would shift in his seat, lift his hands to his face, run his fingers across his own jaw as if feeling for broken bones. Oswald hoped desperately that no permanent damage had been done. If nothing else, certainly Lee would be able to help… if she returned from her confrontation with Sofia.

When they finally reached Cherry’s, Ed directed Oswald behind the building. Dead tired and leg aching the whole way, Oswald managed to half-carry Ed down the alley and through the metal door set into the crumbling bricks.

Once inside, he helped Ed stumble up a flight of stairs and into a room even smaller than the tiny apartment he’d once had. At least his old place had had room enough for a kitchen, a table, things that made it a home.

This room was just big enough for the bed and a small table, on top of which were an assortment of orange bottles. Ed immediately reached for a large one full of huge white pills. Oswald didn’t even have time to ask what they were before Ed had popped open the top and downed four of them.

“Ed?” Oswald watched as Edward lowered himself carefully onto the bed. A moment later, he was breathing softly, the rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he was alive at all.

Oswald took this chance to glance over the numerous bottles on the table. He recognized several painkillers, including the Percoset Ed had taken. Others had names that sounded familiar and brought to mind people passed out on the side of the road. Some he didn’t recognize at all, which made him all the more suspicious of them.

“We’re going to talk about this when you’re conscious again, Ed.”

Ed groaned in response and turned over in his sleep. At least, Oswald had thought he was asleep.

“Ossswalt,” Ed mumbled, the drug making his tongue slow to respond. His eyes opened and focused on Oswald for just a second before closing again.

“Yes Ed? Is there something I can do?” He hurried to the bed and leaned down a bit, unsure how clear Ed would be able to speak half asleep and drugged up.

But Ed didn’t speak again. Instead, he reached out and tugged on Oswald’s jacket a few times. It took him a moment, but Os finally got the hint and sat down on the bed, lifting his legs carefully to rest next to Ed.

In what Oswald considered an impressive feat of coordination, Ed readjusted his position on the bed and laid his head carefully on Oswald’s lap, one arm curling under Os’s good leg.

He had the good grace to blush a bit, but Oswald didn’t object. Instead, he began slowly running his hands through Ed’s hair, to which Ed hummed appreciatively before falling fast asleep.

Oswald, tired beyond all belief and more comfortable than he’d been in months, soon followed suit.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick, someone who can actually write, write that kiss better. I will give you seven (7) spicy sweet chili Doritos in return.


End file.
